Numbing the Pain
by CTI-Jenn
Summary: When Spike can't handle the losses in his life, he has to find a way to numb the pain. Sometimes it also takes a friend's presence to really do that. Jules somehow knows exactly how that feels. Perhaps sometimes she needs a friend just as much.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: I know, I know, I have no business starting a new story when I have two that are unfinished. However, this idea came to my mind and it won't leave me alone to work on the others until I get at least this chapter down on paper. This - I don't think, at least - will be a long drawn out story. Probably three chapters. This story is a Jules/Spike friendship only, not a romance.

Timeline: This chapter takes place after "One Wrong Move" and before "Never Let You Down." There are spoilers within.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Numbing the Pain

Jules Callaghan stepped into the dimly lit bar, her eyes scanning the interior for the person she was looking for. She frowned. The Goose, as usual, was crowded with people either content on blowing off steam or celebrating the end of a long day or maybe even long week. Laughter spilled over from one table to the next as the patrons unwound and relaxed. She couldn't count the number of times she'd been part of the happy atmosphere in the past as Team One did the same after a long shift.

Tonight, however, she didn't really want to be here. The laughter grated on her nerves and just made her want to scream at the people that they had no right to be happy. She wanted to hit them upside the head and remind them that today of all days, they should be as miserable and upset as she was, as the rest of Team One was. Didn't they know a hero had fallen and had just been laid to rest earlier that day? Didn't he deserve an evening of solemnity in his honor?

If she'd had her way, she wouldn't have stepped foot into The Goose tonight. She'd be at home, throwing herself into some sort of renovation project. Anything that she could put her mind to that wouldn't allow her to think about or remember the funeral she'd attended just a few hours earlier. She'd turn on her stereo loud enough that it wouldn't have the neighbor's complain but would drown out the memory of the haunting sound of bagpipes playing Amazing Grace as she, her teammates, and every member of the Metropolitan Police service in full dress uniforms processed through the streets of Toronto as they made their way to a final resting spot. If she had her way, she'd work so late into the night that when she finally stopped, she'd be so tired that she'd have no choice but to fall into a sound and dreamless sleep.

But a phone call had changed those plans. This might not be where she wanted to be on this evening but it was where she was needed. She didn't even think about suggesting that someone else be called to handle the situation. She might be hurting but there was someone who was hurting worse and she wasn't going to turn her back on a friend in need.

She frowned as her visual search turned up empty. She knew he was there but he was hidden well. She approached the bar. Jerry, one of the regular bartenders that had served Team One many drinks over the years, noticed her and stepped over to her. His expression was grim. "Callaghan, thanks for coming. I didn't know who else to call that wouldn't get him in trouble."

Jules nodded. "I'm glad you called me. How long has he been here?"

"I just came on about forty-five minutes ago so I didn't see when he arrived. However, based on his tab and his level of inebriation, I'd say several hours. I would have just cut him off and called him a cab but I was worried he'd just go to another bar instead of home."

"Where is he?"

Jerry pointed to a table in the very back, almost completely hidden away from the rest of the crowd. Jules nodded again. "Thanks. Don't cut him off but whatever he's been drinking switch it to Crown and Coke and make each successive drink more Coke than Crown. Root beer for me; one of us wasted tonight is enough, I think."

Jerry promised and Jules left the bar and headed toward her friend. He didn't notice her approach so it gave her time to access the situation. Just as if this were some sort of hot call, she observed her subject carefully to get an accurate read on his current mental state.

She'd seen Spike drunk numerous times. Usually, he was a fun drunk. He'd get louder and funnier to the point he could barely talk. His exuberance was usually contagious and had the rest of the team laughing at his actions as much as to what he was saying. Tonight was different. There was no trace of humor in his features. If anything, the grief they'd all noticed him sinking into seemed magnified at least a hundred times. He wasn't crying but he looked like it wouldn't take much to send him into a sobbing mess. Her heart broke at the sight.

Why had he come here? After the funeral service and the subsequent gathering at the Young's house, every member of the team, herself included, had checked on Spike to make sure he wasn't going to spend the rest of the day alone. He'd assured them that he was going home because there were things his mom and dad needed him to do around the house. Sarge had even given him a ride home so she knew he'd at least made it that far. But if Jerry's estimation of time was correct, Spike must have almost immediately come to the Goose after Sarge dropped him off.

They'd all taken Lew's death hard; how could they not? They weren't just a team but a family and they'd just lost a valuable member of that family. Every cop knew there was a danger of not making it home after a shift and that risk only compounded when you became a part of the Strategic Response Unit. Still, never in their worst nightmares, had any of them expected to lose someone to a land mine. To make it worse, it had happened right in front of them and there hadn't been a damn thing any of them could do to stop it. So of course, it had been painful for all of them, but for Spike it was even worse. On the job and off, they were best friends, almost inseparable. And without having to be told, Jules knew Spike blamed himself for Lew's death. She should have made a better effort to make sure Spike hadn't ended up here in the first place. However, she couldn't change what had been done; she'd just have to work on making things better now.

"Hey Spike. Mind if I join you?" Without waiting for permission, Jules slipped into the booth next to him. The only acknowledgement she got from her friend was a brief glance her way before he drained the remainder of his glass. Straight whiskey from the looks of it.

A waitress appeared at their table with Jules's root beer and Spike's new drink. Immediately he picked it up and took a long swallow. If he noticed the difference in the order, he didn't say anything. He set the glass back down, still not looking at her. "How did you find me?"

She didn't want to out Jerry as the person who'd called; having someone who looked out for them was a good thing and she didn't want to burn that bridge. So, instead, she shrugged. "It wasn't hard. Drinking alone doesn't really sound like you, Spike. Want to talk about it?"

Spike just shook his head. "Nothing to talk about. We put Lew in the ground today. My best friend is gone and there's nothing I can do to change that. Thought maybe if I got shitfaced drunk enough, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much."

Jules reached out to squeeze his arm. "How's that working for you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Haven't gotten there yet. If you came here to drag me out and take me home, don't bother. I'm not going until either the pain's gone or I pass out, whichever happens first."

She could tell he was drunk already; she had a feeling if he started sweating, it would be alcohol that popped out of his skin rather than water. She could hear the slur in his words and could see the tell-tale redness in his eyes. However, he still seemed lucid enough to be aware of his surroundings. Trying to get him to leave would just make things worse, not better. She would have to wait him out. "Not going to make you leave, but I'm not going to leave you alone either. Whether you drink away the pain or pass out, you're going to need someone to drive for you afterward. That's what I'm here for, but I'm also here if you want to talk."

For a moment Spike didn't say anything as he busied himself with his drink again. Finally he looked at her, unshed tears threatening to spill over at any moment. He shook his head. "It's not fair. It shouldn't have happened. Lew shouldn't be gone."

"I know." Two simple words but they were heart-felt. "There's not a one of us that doesn't wish there was some way we could turn the hands back and change what happened."

Spike raked his hand through his hair and then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. His attempt to get rid of the evidence of his emotional upheaval only resulted in making the tears flow harder. "I could have stopped it. I should have stopped it. The weight transfer could have worked. He should have given me the chance to try it."

Every time the call had been discussed since Lew's death, whether it was their own debriefing, in the group grief sessions with Dr. Luria, and probably even his own private meetings with the psychologist, Spike always came back to the weight transfer. He remained convinced that his idea to use water to transfer the weight on the land mine to something other than Lew would have worked to save his life. Nothing any of them said worked to change his mind.

"Maybe," Jules agreed with him but then added, "but, it also could have meant we buried two friends today instead of one. Lew didn't want to take that chance. He couldn't let you risk your life like that."

"He should have trusted me. I'm the demolitions expert, I know what I'm doing. I could have saved him. I would have saved him. He didn't have to die. He shouldn't have died. I went to the station yesterday. I replicated the call in one of the training rooms. Used one of the rescue dummies and tried the weight transfer. It worked. I was right."

Jules didn't know what to say at first. The discussion had been made outside of Spike's hearing about whether it would be a good idea to let Spike do the experiment just to see. They'd finally decided it wouldn't do any good. If he was successful, it would just reinforce his belief he could have changed things and add to his guilt. If it failed, then it still wouldn't take away his pain. She'd had no idea that Spike had taken it on his own to try the experiment. Hearing Spike say it worked in the lab almost knocked the wind out her and she reached for her root beer to settle her nerves. She almost wished she had something stronger. She'd been one of the most vocal ones about not wanting Spike to try it at the scene. It had been bad enough she was facing losing one friend; she couldn't take the thought of losing two in one fell swoop. Had she given up too soon? She couldn't think that way. She frowned.

"So you replicated the scene perfectly? You accounted for the fact that Lew had been standing on that mine for a long time and was tired and nervous? You were able to replicate your own fear and concern perfectly? Yeah, in a lab setting, with no one around and no added pressure, it worked. Doesn't mean it would have worked in the field that day." She knew he wasn't in any condition to really listen to logic but she had to try.

Spike finished off his drink and signaled the waitress for another one. He cut his eyes over to Jules, expecting her to protest but she didn't say anything about him ordering a new drink. While he waited for the drink to arrive, he leaned back against the booth, his head resting on the top of the cushion so that he was looking up at the ceiling. "Lew didn't trust me. Why didn't he trust me?"

"Lew didn't step off that mine because he didn't trust you, Spike. If anything, he didn't trust the situation. He couldn't or wouldn't take the chance of endangering anyone else but especially not you. How could he or you or any of us know if Alston had tampered with the device any other way than gluing the pin hole shut? You're right, it wasn't fair that Lew died but it wasn't your fault that he did."

"It shouldn't have happened." Spike continued. The waitress came with a new drink for Spike and a refill for Jules. Jules caught her eye and raised a questioning eyebrow, as if asking for sure that Jerry had followed through with what she'd told him to do. The waitress gave her a sly wink to let her know it was as ordered and then left. "His death was meaningless."

Jules narrowed her eyes. She could sit there and listen to Spike all night long if she had to in order to let him vent but she couldn't let him go there. "Don't, Spike, don't do that. Yeah, we all wish Lew was still alive, all of us. Losing him was like losing a vital part of ourselves. However, Lew died doing what he thought was best in order to save you and us. He made a sacrifice and he died a hero. Don't lessen that by saying it was meaningless. That's not fair either."

Spike ran his finger over the rim of his glass. Several times it looked like he was about to say something but each time he stopped himself before he uttered a syllable. Finally he sighed. "Lew was more than just my best friend, you know. He was more like a brother. I could tell him anything."

Again she reached out to touch his arm. "I know. I could see that from the very beginning. Lew recognized something about you from the moment he picked you out of the recruitment trails."

Spike shook his head. "What do you mean?"

Jules knew talking about pleasanter times was much better than Spike dwelling on what could have been. She smiled at the memory. "The first day of the recruitment trials, Lew, Wordy, and I were standing to the side while Sarge and Ed were addressing all of you. You know, we were picking out the ones we thought would be the first cuts, the ones that looked promising and such. Lew points at you and says 'That's him. That's who's going to get the spot.' Each time we made cuts and you got a little closer, he'd stick by what he'd said. As the crowd of applicants got fewer and fewer, we started to realize he was right and there was no question when we made our decision, but Lew knew from the very beginning. Give the guy a gold star for being so smart."

Spike's eyes were wide as he looked at her. Jules couldn't help but see him as he must have looked as a small boy growing up seeing something for the first time. He shook his head. "Lew never told me that."

Jules shrugged. "He probably didn't want to give you a swelled head. That or he just thought you'd be the perfect person to pick on as the new rookie. You joining the team meant he wasn't the rookie anymore. I think he was tired of being the one we all gave a hard time."

In spite of himself, Spike smiled slightly thinking of the different pranks that had been played on him when he first started. Though he was sure some of them had been instigated by Lew and was even more sure that Lew had at least been involved with all of them, his friend had always been the one to check on him afterward to make sure there were no hard feelings. "He didn't have as long to be the rookie as I did. I guess now Sam's going to lose his rookie status as well."

Once again his mood darkened as he finished his drink. "Lew shouldn't have died. We shouldn't have an empty spot on the team that we have to fill. Why couldn't the team just stay the way it was? I don't see why we have to have the recruitment trails so soon anyway."

Jules didn't want to admit she wasn't looking forward to the trials anymore than Spike was. It was different picking someone when the vacancy had been created for a positive reason; a retirement, a transfer, or a promotion. This was the first time as far as she was aware of that the death of a team member had necessitated the need for recruitment. "It wouldn't be any easier if we put it off a few weeks or a few months. It sucks but it's necessary. Just like you had to do it when I was sidelined after getting shot."

Spike ordered another drink; Jules was pretty sure it should be mostly if not all just Coke from here on out but Spike didn't seem to notice the difference. "That was different. Even as we were picking Donna we knew it was just temporary. She was a sub for you until you came back and she found a place somewhere else."

Jules drained the rest of her root beer before transferring her straw to the one the waitress brought her when she brought Spike's latest drink. Now probably wasn't the time to mention that she'd had her own resentments toward the trials that had temporarily placed Donna on the team. Spike didn't need to know how much it had hurt her knowing they'd chosen someone to replace her even if it was only supposed to be temporary, especially since she'd gotten the real feeling as she prepared to come back that there'd been talk between at least Sarge and Ed as to whether the spot should go back to Jules or remain with Donna. It was enough that Sam had been privy to those fears and bad enough given the way they'd been forced to leave things in order for her to come back. She twirled her straw around in her glass.

"Spike, I don't care who gets chosen during the replacement trials. No one will ever replace Lew. We'll pick someone to fill a spot on the team but whoever it is will have to find his or her own place- both in the team dynamic and in our hearts. Lew might not physically be there any more but he's always going to be Team One."

It wasn't exactly an original thought on her part. Sam was the one who'd said something similar to her the night the team had settled on Donna during those recruitment trials. He'd shown up at her hospital room at the end of shift and had stayed the night. He'd recognized almost immediately the direction her thoughts had taken as he'd told her about the results of the trials and had done everything he could to make her feel better. She wondered sometimes, more so the last week as her grief over the loss of Lew had led her to feel Sam's absence in her private life - and her bed - even more than when she'd first insisted that the team had to come before their relationship, whether she'd made the right choice. She loved her job and couldn't imagine being on any other team or doing any other job.

It had been a hard choice choosing between her job and Sam. Ultimately, it had come down to knowing that if she put Sam first, she'd end up resenting him in the end when she really thought about what she'd given up. It would be a resentment they wouldn't be able to get passed no matter what they tried and it probably wouldn't have worked out for them anyway. If that had happened, then where would she be? Stuck on a Team that wasn't her family or in a completely different job AND without Sam in her life. She couldn't do that, not to herself and not to him. Besides, it wasn't like he had expressed a willingness to give up his spot either. Losing him had hurt but she'd known it was the only choice she could have made. However, it didn't stop her from really missing him, especially now when it would be comforting to have someone she could turn to when she wanted to break down, someone who wouldn't judge her or think she was weak, someone who understood and shared her pain just as much.

"How do I do it, though Jules?" His words were slurring even more now than when she'd first arrived. The drinks he'd consumed during the afternoon and evening was working against him even though she knew Jerry had been weaning him off the alcohol after she'd arrived. She wasn't sure how he was even still conscious. "How do I sit through those trials, how do I chose the person who will fill a spot that can't be filled?"

"The same way the rest of us will, Spike. We'll pick the person who can do the best job." Jules assured him.

Spike nodded but didn't seem convinced. He finished off his drink and Jules wasn't surprised when he ordered another. He seemed intent on following through with his promise to not quit until he either passed our or got passed the pain. Since his drinks were now strictly non-alcoholic, she wasn't sure either was going to happen. Before the waitress could return with the drinks, Spike looked at her. "You know what would happen if Lew were here right now?"

Lew would have cut him off a couple hours ago probably, was Jules's first thought. Spike seemed so serious, so earnest that Jules just shook her head. "I don't know, Spike; what would Lew do?"

"If he were here, he'd help me to the bathroom. I really gotta take a leak and I don't think I can walk to the bathroom. That's what best friends do; they hold you up when you can't do it yourself. Lew was the best at that."

The last part of his statement was so profound and accurate it seemed almost out of place given what he'd said at first. Jules resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the same time she wanted to cry. She wasn't surprised; she'd only consumed three root beers and she needed the restroom; how Spike had lasted this long, she'd never know. "I'm not Lew, Spike, but I am here for you. You think if I help you to the door, you can handle the rest on your own?"

Spike looked her up and down. "You really think you can help get me there? I think my legs have disconnected from my body. I can't feel them anymore."

Jules let out a snort. "Please, if I can pull Sarge's butt across the station, I think I can manage your puny self to the bathroom door."

Spike nodded. "You're a good friend, Jules. You aren't Lew but you are a good friend."

For now, she'd take that as a compliment. Maybe, she'd even rag him about it later when he was sober and she was looking for a way to embarrass him. Even as she was thinking it, she knew she wouldn't. Anything that had been said tonight in this bar would remain right here. Sometimes, they all needed a moment to let down their guard and just take all the filters off their mouths and thoughts and just say whatever. It wasn't something that ever needed to be brought up ever again.

She slipped his arm around her neck and helped him to stand. Immediately his knees buckled beneath him but she kept him from falling. She started toward the bathrooms, carrying most of his weight. If she wasn't as fit as she was for the job, she never would have been able to get him from the table to the restrooms. As it was, she was glad that he'd chosen a table that was so close to their destination because he was almost completely dead weight. She wasn't sure if he was going to make it once she left him at the door, but there was no way she was going into the men's room with him.

Fortunately, her dilemma was solved just as she reached the door. Suddenly she found herself relieved of Spike's weight. She glanced to the side and saw that Ralph, a broad muscular guy that acted as security slash bouncer for The Goose had shouldered Spike's weight for her. She flashed the man the whole team had gotten to know well over the years a grateful smile. His answering grin was cheeky as he spoke to Spike. "Come on Scarlatti, I know Callaghan's just one of the guys but no sense turning her stomach by making her see what the inside of the men's room really looks like."

Knowing Spike was in capable hands, Jules detoured over to the ladies' restroom and took care of her own business. When she stepped back out into the hallway, there was no sign of Ralph and Spike so she went back to the table. Jerry had stepped away from the bar and walked over to join her. "Spike okay?"

She nodded. She was pretty sure he had sent Ralph to help her with Spike when he'd seen them heading for the bathrooms. "I think so. It's been a tough day and he'll have a hell of hangover tomorrow but he'll be fine. We'll all be fine."

Jerry nodded as well. He'd seen the news about Lew and figured the death of their teammate had played into what had happened that night. That was one of the reasons he'd called Jules in the first place. "Anything else you need?"

She hoped that once Ralph retuned Spike to the table, she could convince her friend and teammate to call it a night. "I think we should probably close out his tab. Given how much he had to drink, I'm almost afraid to see his bill. That might hurt him tomorrow more than the hangover."

Jerry laughed. "Yeah, it could have been bad. However, I talked it over with my boss and he agreed to let me comp most of it. Your team does so much for the city and you are all good patrons. There's never enough ways we can show all of you our appreciation for everything you all sacrifice to keep the city safe. Hearing what happened to Constable Young just reminds us of that all too well. So, we're only charging him for the actual cost of the alcohol so it's not so bad." He'd figured they would probably be ready for the bill so he'd already gotten it ready. He handed it to Jules. She glanced at the total and realized that it wasn't much more than what they all spent on a regular night out, still not great considering it was a one man drinking spree instead of the whole team but not enough to put a huge dent into a paycheck. She fished into her purse and handed over her credit card. It would be easier for her to settle the tab than try to retrieve Spike's credit card when he came back.

"Thanks, Jerry. Not just for helping him with the bill but just for taking care of him tonight. It means a lot."

Jerry blushed slightly at her words. "It's nothing compared to what he does to keep the city safe. Besides, I've got to take care of my favorite patrons, right? I'll go run this and get it right back to you."

Jerry returned a few minutes later with both her card and her receipt. She frowned as she put the piece of plastic back in her purse. Why hadn't Ralph and Spike returned? After all, how long could it take? She made her way back toward the restrooms just as the door opened and Ralph stepped out. He was no longer merely supporting Spike but practically carrying her friend instead.

"He's okay. I actually think he just fell asleep instead of passed out. Want me to help you get him to your car?" Ralph explained when he saw her worried expression.

Jules nodded and led the way out of the bar. She'd managed to get a parking place somewhat close to the entrance. Once at the Jeep, she unlocked the passenger side and then Ralph helped get Spike settled in the seat. Straightening up, Ralph looked at her. "You going to have help getting him out once you get him home?"

"I can handle it." Jules promised. She gave him a quick hug. "Thanks for everything. It's nice to have someone watching our backs from time to time."

Ralph nodded. "Any time. You probably want to make sure he's got quick access to a bottle of Tylenol in the morning. He's going to have a hell of hangover."

"Yeah." Jules agreed. However, she was pretty sure the pain in his head wouldn't be any greater than the one in his heart. No amount of pain reliever would be able to take care of that. She went around to the driver's side of the Jeep and got in. She checked Spike's seat belt before fastening her own. She sat there for a moment staring out the windshield.

Now the question came where she should take him. It wouldn't be a problem taking him to her house and letting him sleep it off there. She didn't think she wanted to drag his mostly unconscious self up the stairs to the spare bedroom but she knew from experience that her couch made a pretty comfy temporary bed. He'd be fine there. On the other hand, she didn't want his parents to worry about him if he were out all night.

True, Spike was a grown man capable of coming and going as he pleased. However, she could remember when her oldest brother lived at home for a year after he'd graduated from college. Her father had told him in no uncertain terms that even though he was an adult, he had to be considerate of the people he lived with. If he was going to stay out all night, he had to let them know, not because they wanted to keep tabs on him but because they shouldn't have to worry that something had happened to him. That lesson had stuck with her every since and she didn't want the Scarlatti's worrying about Spike.

"Where am I?" Spike slurred his words even more than he had before going to the rest room. He didn't move his head from the back of the seat.

"My jeep. You said you weren't leaving until the pain was gone or you passed out. Well, you pretty much passed out while you were in the bathroom so I'm holding you to your word." She wasn't sure if he'd argue with her on that point or not.

"'kay. Where're we going?" His eyes were half closed.

Jules glanced over at him. "Where do you want to go? Just so you know, I reserve the right to and will veto any suggestion that I don't think is good for you. That includes but is not limited to any place that serves alcohol."

"Noted." Spike murmured. "Can you take me back to a week ago when Lew and I were on vacation? Back to when everything was okay?"

"I would if I could, Spike; you gotta know that." Jules promised him.

"Take me home then. Don't want Ma to worry; she worries too much as it is." Once again, Jules couldn't help but picture him as a little boy, worried about upsetting his mother. It didn't sound to her though that it was really where he wanted to go. She glanced back over at him.

"If you'd rather go somewhere else for the night, I can do that. I'll even use your cell to call your mom and let her know you are okay."

He still had that wide-eyed little boy look about him. "You'd do that for me?"

Jules didn't hesitate. "Yeah, Spike, of course I will. You want to crash on my couch tonight?"

Spike was quiet at first but then he nodded. "Thanks. Just no lying to my ma. Haven't been 'kay since Lew stepped on the damn mine."

Jules couldn't argue with him. She didn't think anyone on the team had been truly okay since Lew died. It would probably be a long time before they were. She pulled out into traffic and headed toward her house. Spike went quiet again and Jules figured he'd fallen asleep again.

"Jules…"

And then again, maybe not. She glanced back at him before returning her focus to the road. "Yeah, Spike?"

"Do I have to like him?"

She knew he was once more talking about whomever they chose in the recruitment trials. She didn't take offense at the masculine pronoun. Odds were more in favor of them picking a male team member than a female. "Spike, we're picking someone to fill Lew's spot on the team, not as your best friend. What kind of friendship you have with him or her is for you to decide. If I had to bet though, I'd say the chances are good you'll end up liking whomever we choose. You're too nice a guy not too."

"'kay."

Nothing else was said until Jules pulled into her driveway. She turned off the engine and looked over at Spike. For the moment he looked like he was sleeping peacefully so she hoped that the alcohol was at least giving him a momentary reprieve from the pain and guilt. Even though it meant she was pretty much going to have to carry him to the front door. She knew she could call one of her other teammates to come over and give her a hand but that would mean letting whoever she called see Spike at his most vulnerable. It wasn't that she thought Sam, Wordy, Ed, or even Greg would judge him or think less of him. Each man would understand just as much as she did the extreme pain Spike was feeling and his need to do something to try to alleviate that pain. That wasn't why she was loathe to call anyone. Nobody, understanding or not, needed to see Spike like this. This kind of emotional release was best done in private or with as few witnesses as necessary.

She came around the vehicle and opened the passenger door. It took a little careful maneuvering to ease him out of the car and on to his feet. Just like at The Goose, his knees immediately buckled and she had to quickly get her arms around him to keep him from falling. "Come on, Spike, wake up long enough to help me get you inside and then you can sleep as long as you like."

"Jules? Where did you come from?" He was at least carrying some of his own weight now. "Where am I?"

She wasn't sure if it was that he didn't really remember or if he was just still mostly out of it. She wasn't sure which was better. "You're at my place. You had a little too much to drink so I brought you home."

"That's why the ground is spinning? I thought maybe we were having a freak earthquake or som'thin'. Thanks, Jules. You're a good friend. Outside Lew, you're my bestest friend."

"Thanks Spike. Let's get you inside before you fall flat on your face." It was slow going but she eventually had him inside the house. She helped him over to the couch and let him practically drop onto the cushions. Without having to be told, he immediately turned on his side, lying down fully on the couch.

Jules unclipped his cell phone from his belt and eased his shoes off but that was as far as she went. Going to the linen closet, she grabbed a blanket and returned to the couch. She covered him up and was about to move away when he reached up and grabbed her wrist.

"Jules, why Lew? It's not fair. I can't do this job without him. I don't know how."

"Yeah, you do, Spike. You'll be fine. We'll all make sure of it. I promise."

And then he succumbed completely to an alcohol induced sleep. Jules watched him for a moment before picking up his cell phone. She called his mother and explained the situation and assured the older woman that Spike would be fine. Once that was completed, she returned the cell phone to the coffee table. Then she went to the kitchen and took the bottle of ibuprofen from her medicine cabinet and grabbed an unopened bottle of water from the fridge. Returning to the living room, she set both on the coffee table in easy reach in case Spike woke up before she did.

Just as she was about to turn out the lights and head upstairs herself, she thought of something else. She found a small garbage can and doubled lined it with garbage bags and set it near the end of the couch where Spike's head was resting. If he woke up nauseated, she'd much rather have him throw up in the protected garbage can than on her carpet. Satisfied that she'd done all she could do for the moment, she turned out the lights and went upstairs.

She'd planned to throw herself into a renovation project to take her mind off her grief but there was no way she could do anything now. She couldn't risk waking Spike up. Besides, helping Spike had in some ways taken her mind off her own pain - at least while he'd been conscious. Now that she was essentially alone despite the fact that Spike was just downstairs, her pain started to return. Perhaps it was even worse because she'd been reminded just how much Lew's death had devastated not only her own life but to a much larger extent someone she cared about.

Seeing no viable option to distract herself from the grief that she'd safely pushed to the side all day, Jules escaped to the sanctuary of her bedroom. During the funeral earlier, there hadn't been a dry eye as person after person honored Lew's life through their words and memories. Tears had been shed but composure had been kept; a composure she almost felt fake in maintaining. Strangers very rarely got to see her cry at all but not even family - her actual blood relatives or her teammates - were privy to the times when she totally gave in to the feelings threatening to consume her. It wasn't that she didn't trust them enough to let them see it but that she didn't trust herself to be that vulnerable even with people she loved.

She stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Shedding her clothes, she stepped into the shower and turned it on. Adjusting the temperature so that the water was hot without being scalding, Jules allowed the spray to wash over her. Feeling safe to do so, she allowed the tears to form and slip down her face mixing with the water from the shower. It didn't take long for the tears to become full sobs to the point her whole body was shaking. She sank to the floor of the shower and fully gave into her grief.

Spike was right; it wasn't fair that Lew was gone. It was even less fair that so soon after burying their friend and co-worker, they would have to sit through the trials where hundreds of officers eager for their chance to wear the cool pants would vie for that one spot.

She just had to trust that she'd been right as well when she'd assured Spike that no, it wasn't fair but that everything would eventually be alright. It would have to be. She didn't think the team as a whole could survive it wasn't. And losing the team as she loved it would be something she definitely couldn't survive.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: So sorry for the lengthy wait. School started back and it's always crazy getting back into the swing of things after summer ends. This chapter was supposed to explore more into Jules's history but it was getting long and it was taking so long to get it finished, I decided to break it up into two different chapters. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Again, I'm sorry for the long wait; hopefully I can get back into the groove of writing in the evenings instead of crashing early.

Timeline: This chapter takes place directly after the episode "Shockwave" in Season Four.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Numbing the Pain

Chapter 2

"Hey Jules, which tie would you recommend? Natalie suggested the purple one but I'm not sure if it's because she thinks it looks better with this dress shirt or because she's the one who bought it for me."

Sam Braddock stepped into the bathroom where Jules was standing in front of the mirror finishing her makeup. He was holding up a purple tie that was so bright it almost sparkled. She wrinkled her nose as she glanced at it.

"I'd say it was probably because she bought it. I don't think a shirt exists that it would look good with. What was Nat thinking when she bought it? She usually has much better fashion sense than that. I vote for the other tie sight unseen; it has to be better."

Sam nodded. "I had a feeling my simple navy tie would be a better choice. Nat called it 'boring' but given the circumstances, maybe boring is the way to go."

Jules nodded and returned her attention to her makeup. Sam stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind before kissing her cheek. "You look beautiful."

Usually she would relax against him and they would lose themselves in the moment while they could. It was hard keeping their personal feelings secret at work but it seemed to make their private time when they could express how they felt even sweeter. This time was different though. Jules didn't pull away from him but she didn't seem as receptive to his touch either.

Sam frowned. He'd noticed that something had seemed off about Jules's mood the last couple of days but every time he'd attempted to ask her about it, she changed the subject. He hadn't pushed it. One thing he'd quickly learned about Jules was that she didn't like discussing her feelings, not with him or with anyone unless there was no getting around it. He'd assumed that her mood had something to do with him getting hurt during a bomb call the other day. He knew it hadn't been easy for her to know he was hurt and trapped in the building and not be able to do anything or even able to express her concern beyond what would be normal for a teammate.

It probably didn't help that since he'd been injured, he'd been spending more time at his apartment than here at Jules's house because he never knew when someone from the team would drop by to check on him. That had severely limited the time they'd gotten to spend together since Jules would have to wait until it was late enough that they wouldn't risk a visit by a teammate to sneak over to spend the night. Then she'd have to leave again early in the morning just in case someone got the idea to bring him breakfast.

Keeping his arms around her waist, he moved them down the counter to a section that was clear and then edged around to where he was standing in front of her. He sat on the counter and wrapped his legs around her to pull her closer. His hands cupped her face so she had no choice but to look at him.

"Jules, what's wrong? Don't tell me nothing because I know that's a lie. You're on edge; you have been the last several days but today it seems like more. It's more than just me getting a bump on the head. Please talk to me."

"It was more than just a bump on the head; the doctor said concussion and you were unconscious for what seemed liked forever." Jules argued but it was said almost so automatically that Sam couldn't help but feel like she was making it out of habit not out of worry.

Sam nodded. It wasn't the first time she'd reminded him of what the doctor who'd examined him in the emergency room had told him. "Yeah, he said I had a concussion but he also classified it as slight. In fact, it was so slight that he told me to just take it easy for a couple of days - which I did - and that I could go back to work after that so long as I didn't have a headache or any kind of blurry vision - which I don't. So what's really bothering you?"

She sighed. She knew if she told Sam to just drop it, he would respect her feelings enough to do so but he would still worry. She couldn't do that to him. "I'm worried about Spike. He's really having a hard time with losing his dad."

Sam nodded. His head might have been pounding and he might have been hustled pretty quickly over to the ambulance after being rescued from the building but he had been well aware of the fear in Spike's voice when he'd said he had to leave. Sam was glad that Spike had managed to make it to the hospital in time to say his final goodbyes to his father. He didn't know if Spike would have been able to forgive himself if the job had prevented him from being there. "I know. I stopped by yesterday to drop off a cake that Nat baked. Knowing what a great cook Mrs. Scarlatti is, do you know how ridiculous I felt bringing food? Especially something my sister - who's not known for her cooking abilities - baked. Anyway, I don't remember ever seeing Spike look so down. There were all these family members there but he seemed almost lost in the crowd. I asked if he wanted to get out of the house for a little while, just go grab a beer or something. For a moment I think he was going to say yes, but then one of his aunts came in the room asking him to help her with something and that was that."

"Relatives just don't know how to butt out and not get involved." Jules muttered, half under her breath.

There was just enough touch of bitterness in Jules's tone to make the warning bells in Sam's head go off. With a certainty that defied logic, he knew she wasn't just talking about Spike but something more personal. He was pretty sure she didn't know any of Spike's out of town relatives enough to be that upset with them. So if she wasn't talking about Spike's family then was she referring to her own? When could her family have butted in when they shouldn't have?

Suddenly he thought he might know what was bothering her. Had the death of Spike's father opened old wounds for her? He wondered if she was thinking back to when her mother died. All he knew about that time in her life was that she'd been sixteen. She rarely talked about her mother, and never about her death, but he knew it was a sore subject for her without her saying a word. Now that they were dating again, albeit still in secret, he'd tried to let her know that he was willing to listen if she wanted to talk. At the same time, however, he never pressed the issue. Wasn't like he liked talking about his sister's death any more than she liked to talk about her mother's.

He didn't want to further upset her now by staying on the subject but he couldn't just drop it either. He was pretty sure she knew she could talk to him about anything but he felt like he needed to remind her. "Jules, you know you can talk to me about anything right? If you just want me to listen without comment, I can do that."

There was just a hint of a smile on Jules's lips. She knew Sam well enough to know that he was protective by nature. If he were presented with what he felt like was a problem, even a twenty year old problem, he would want or more likely feel like he needed to get involved and fix things. Even if it couldn't be fixed. She loved that about him at the same time that it drove her absolutely crazy at times as well.

"I know. I appreciate it, really I do. Maybe knowing what Spike is going through has brought up memories better off left buried. I don't want to talk about it though, okay?"

Sam nodded, hoping his disappointment didn't show. When Jules sighed deeply, he knew he hadn't been completely successful. Jules lowered her head. "Please don't take it personally. It's not that I want to keep things from you. I know you would listen and that you want to help. I do. It's not about keeping things from you or not trusting you with the things that bother me. It's more about not trusting myself. Those memories aren't just painful but even thinking about them takes me right back to the worst time in my life, like it just happened. I'm not proud of the person I become when that happens."

Even with her head bowed she knew he was about to protest. Knew he was going to say that nothing she shared would change the way he thought about her. She knew that and believed him without him saying it. "I know you can handle whatever I might share but I can't. Not right now. We've got a long day ahead of us and I - we - need to be there for Spike instead of me being wrapped up in my own memories."

She raised her head again, looking at him with her warm brown eyes that he loved so much. She was pleading with him to understand and not take her reluctance to talk personally. How could he deny her what she wanted when she looked at him like that? He nodded.

"You're right. Today we've got to take care of Spike, help him through this. However, after the funeral is over and we know Spike is okay, I'm here if you want to exorcise your own demons or if you just want to snuggle on the couch and create some better memories."

Now the hint of a smile broadened into a full blown smile. She nodded. "I know. Now, I've really got to finish getting ready or we're going to be late."

Sam gently played with one of the soft curls near her face. At work, she almost always wore her hair back in a braid or ponytail so it was out of her way but on her off time it was almost always down. He loved her hair, loved running his fingers through it. Today, she'd spent some time with the curling iron so it fell in soft waves and curls around her face. She took his breath away.

Taking advantage of the fact that she hadn't put on her lipstick yet, Sam leaned down and kissed her. He never needed a reason for kissing her and would take advantage of any opportunity but he especially loved catching her lips when they were naked. She wouldn't fuss at him about smudging her lipstick and he didn't have to worry afterward about removing any evidence of the kiss from his own lips.

For a moment, nothing mattered but their lips pressed against each other. Jules parted her lips allowing Sam's tongue to sweep inside, deepening the kiss. All too soon, Jules stepped back, ending the kiss. Sam tried to pull her close again but she shook her head, breathing hard. She licked her lips which just made her even more irresistible to Sam.

"Seriously Sam, as much as I would rather stay home and maybe move this into the bedroom and create those better memories you were talking about, I've got to finish getting ready. We're going to be pushing it picking Raf up on time to get to the service as it is."

"I'll put the blame on Nat if we are. I'll tell him you got to my apartment to pick me up in plenty of time but my sister was hogging the bathroom keeping me from getting ready."

Jules rolled her eyes. "Would you really throw Nat under the bus that way? Wait, don't answer that; I don't really want to know. Seriously, Sam, Spike is our friend and we owe it to him to be there on time. Go put your tie on - your navy tie not that purple monstrosity - and let me finish getting my make-up on."

Sam grinned at her and slid off the counter without releasing her. He gave her a forehead a chaste kiss. "I meant what I said earlier. You are beautiful."

Again she rolled her eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere right now."

His next kiss was against her lips but it wasn't the same searing kiss as earlier, more of a hint of a promise of what could come later. "It's not flattery when it's the truth. You are beautiful Jules. Whether you are in full gear at work or wearing nothing at all. Beautiful on the outside and more importantly beautiful on the inside. I can tell going to this funeral is bringing up bad memories for you but you are putting that aside because you want to be there for Spike. I think that's the most beautiful thing about you. Just know that I'm here for you as well as for Spike. Whatever you need to get through the memories. If you want to talk about it later, I'm here. If you need me to just give you space later so you can deal with them in your own way, then I'll do that as well."

She knew he was being completely honest with her. His feelings wouldn't be hurt if she asked him to let her have the evening to wallow in her self-pity and memories. Her heart swelled a little more with love for this man she was grateful was once more back in her life and bed. She thought about the purchase she'd made the day before and hid in one of the cabinets in the kitchen in anticipation for the melt down she was pretty sure was coming after the service. As much as she wanted to take him up on his offer for them to just snuggle on the couch later, she knew it would only be a matter of time before she had to give in to the emotions building up inside her. She wasn't sure she was ready for him to see that side of her just yet. She nodded. "Thanks. Someday, I will tell you everything, I promise. I just don't know if it'll be today or not."

"Copy that. Whenever, wherever."

- FP - FP - FP -

As Jules had feared, they were late picking Raf up. It had been Jules's idea for the three of them to carpool together. Since Sam's apartment logistically was between her house and Raf's apartment, she knew it wouldn't look suspicious for Sam to already be with her and gave them a convenient excuse to go to the service together.

Raf didn't question their tardiness when they did arrive. Sam was glad, although he had been more than willing to take the blame. While Raf was probably the most laid back of the team when it came to punctuality, Jules was by far the most fanatical about not only being on time but being early for just about everything. Sam had seen Jules's already low mood turn almost completely sour at the idea that she was running late. He'd feared that even a teasing comment from Raf about them being late would just make things worse.

When she pulled into a space in the parking lot of the church where the service was to be held, Sam saw that Greg, Ed, and Sophie were also just arriving. He hoped that would make Jules feel a little bit better but he could tell from the tension in her shoulders that it hadn't. It didn't help that once they were inside the church they found that it was so close to the time of the service that the family had already been pulled into a side room for a final prayer with the priest. Sam was pretty sure that if she'd been able to at least see how Spike was doing, she would be able to relax a little more. It made him wonder just how bad things had been when her mother died that this funeral was upsetting her so much. He'd meant what he'd said earlier; he wouldn't push her to talk about it, but he couldn't deny that his protective instincts were kicking into high drive with her reaction.

Once they were seated and the service had started, Sam started to wonder if he was reading Jules correctly. He could feel her restlessness and got the idea that it wouldn't take much for her to just bolt from the church. It was enough that he wanted to reach over and squeeze her shoulder or grip her hand or in some way physically reassure her that it was okay. He couldn't do that because it could raise too many questions they couldn't afford to be asked. At the same time though, he couldn't help but notice that Greg, who was sitting on the other side of Jules, seemed completely oblivious to her distress. Surely, if the stress Sam was feeling from her was accurate, a great profiler like Greg would have picked up on it as well and questioned her about it. Was he imagining her distress or did he just know her so much better than Greg?

Jules could almost feel Sam's gaze boring into her and knew he was worried about her. While she appreciated his concern, she couldn't focus on it. It was taking everything in her to just stay seated in the pew between Sam and Sarge. Her head was raised and her attention appeared to be on the priest beginning the service. Instead her gaze was fixed on a spot somewhere behind the man and her thoughts a million miles away. The truth was she usually avoided having to attend funerals when she could. There had been no way she could do that to Spike, however. So here she sat, pretending to be absorbed in the message the priest was delivering and trying not to flashback to unhappier times.

After what seemed like an eternity, the church service was over and everyone made the processional to the graveside. Jules was glad she'd offered Raf a ride as well because it meant Sam didn't get the chance to ask her if she were okay. She wasn't, not in the least, but she didn't want to admit that to Sam or lie to him either. She did, however, miss the fact that she couldn't quietly slide her hand in his during the drive. Instead, she kept both hands on the wheel and hoped that her white knuckles didn't give away too much of the tension in her.

The graveside service didn't last long. As people approached the family to once more offer their condolences, Spike sought out his team. He greeted them each with a hug and Jules couldn't help but notice that he seemed to almost cling to each person a little longer than he might normally would. It seemed to her that he was drawing strength from his friends when his own was more than spent. With that in mind she gave him an extra tight hug, ready to offer him any amount of strength he needed.

"You'll come back to the house, right? There's enough food to feed the greater Toronto area." Spike offered after the round of hugs had been made. The question mark was clear at the end of his first statement but his eyes begged them to all say yes.

"Your family won't mind?" Sarge asked. They all knew the gathering at the house was typically just for family. And while they all considered themselves Spike's family, they knew they had no official claim to the title.

Spike nodded emphatically. "I'm sure. Ma's invited a lot of her friends back as well so it's not strictly a family thing. It's been a tough morning and I really could use my friends close."

Ed reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We're there for you, Buddy. I've got to drop Sophie off at home first because we've got to relieve the babysitter but then I'll be there."

"Michelangelo," a formidable looking woman standing next to Spike's mother called over to him. She didn't say anything more but Spike's shoulders slumped just at the call of his name.

He nodded his head in her direction. "My dad's sister. She's been staying with us since she got to town a few days ago. I better get over there before she uses my full name. I'll see you at the house. I really appreciate you all being here today. You don't know what it means to me." His eyes momentarily filled with tears.

Jules stepped forward and hugged him again. Then she kissed his cheek. "You don't have to thank us, Spike. We're here because we love you."

"Absolutely." Sam echoed as Jules stepped back.

Again Spike looked back toward his mother and aunt. It was clear to the rest of the team that he didn't want to walk away from them but at the same time it was equally clear he didn't have a choice. Jules frowned as he walked away but waited until he was out of earshot to say anything.

"Anyone else notice that it doesn't look like he's slept well?"

Sarge nodded. "We knew this wasn't going to be easy for him. All we can do is be there for him as we can and give him all the love and support he needs. Not just today but for the next few days and weeks as well. We'll make sure he's okay."

The team started the trek from the graveside to the vehicles. Though Jules would have been happier leading the way and getting far away from the cemetery as she could, she made sure to stay to the middle of the pack. She didn't want anyone picking up on her mood by appearing to be in a hurry to leave or by dragging her feet like she was upset. She knew Sam had an idea but didn't want to add to his worry. There would be time for her to face her old demons later when she was all alone.

Once Jules, Sam, and Raf were settled in the Jeep and she was heading for Spike's house, Raf shook his head. "I can't even imagine what Spike's going through right now. I might not get to see my dad as much as I would like and I miss him like crazy sometimes but at least I know he's there. If I really need to talk to him or see him, I can. You know?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, the General and I might not always see eye to eye but seeing what Spike's gone through with his dad's illness and now this has made me appreciate the fact that my dad is at least healthy. After Sarge called us to let us know that he'd gotten the call from Spike that his dad had passed, I called my parents just to tell them I loved them. I'm not sure whom I surprised more, myself or the General."

Jules didn't comment. She'd called her father as well, didn't tell him why she was calling because she knew he'd want to talk about her mother and she hadn't been ready for that. Instead, she'd just acted like it was a normal conversation, told him about what was going on with her and listened as he talked about what he wanted to do around the property when he got the chance. She promised to come visit him when she could but she knew it was an empty promise. Home held too many memories she's worked too hard burying to go back.

Since Ed had to drop off Sophie at their house before he and Greg could come to Spike's, Jules, Sam, and Raf were the first of the team to arrive. Since the driveway was already full of cars, Jules parked on the street where she wouldn't be blocked in later. Then the three made their way up the walk and rang the doorbell.

Spike's aunt, the one who called him away from them at the cemetery, answered the door. Her disdain was clear and Sam wondered briefly if she was going to close the door on them without letting them in. Not one to be intimidated by anyone or anything, Jules stepped forward, her body now preventing the door from being closed. Sam hid a grin as he recognized her stance as the one she would use when confronting a subject that needed a dose of tough reality. It was almost as if she grew a couple of inches when she was in that mode.

"Hi, Jules Callaghan. We work with Spike and he invited us over. You're his aunt, right? On his father's side? We're very sorry for your loss."

The expression on the older woman's face didn't change and she still looked like she wanted to close the door on them even with Jules blocking the way. Then Spike appeared in the hallway behind them and saw them standing there.

"Hey guys, thanks for coming. Aunt Luisa, I take it you've met my teammates. Jules, Sam, Raf, this is my Aunt Luisa. Come on in."

Jules had to school her features to keep from smirking at the dominating aunt as she brushed past her. To make sure none of her emotions showed, she basically ignored her as she once more hugged Spike tightly. He returned the hug and again she felt like he was holding on longer and tighter than he would normally. Once she released him, he greeted Sam and Raf as well. None of the three acknowledged the fact that his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Spike stepped back and then led them down the hall to where tables full of food had been set up. "People have been bringing food over for days. I don't know where Ma has found room to store it all. With all the family coming in to town I'm glad she hasn't had to worry about cooking for everyone. But I know if all this food isn't eaten up soon, it's going to start going bad and that's just going to make her feel bad. She doesn't believe food should be wasted."

Raf reached out and gripped his arm. "It's okay, Spike. Everyone just wants to show they care."

Spike nodded and looked like he was about to say something else when Luisa approached. Jules thought she saw him stiffen slightly when he saw her coming but wasn't sure if that was just in her imagination or not.

"Michelangelo, your mother is looking for you. She needs you to help her bring a box down from the attic."

Spike sighed and promised he'd be there in a second. Then he looked at his friends. "Ma keeps wanting to pull some of my dad's stuff out of storage to show people. I know she's just trying to hold on to him however she can but it just upsets her even more. Let me go see what she's wanting and if I can distract her. I'll be right back."

"Take your time, Spike. We understand you've got things to do today. We'll be here." Sam promised.

Once Spike walked away, Raf shook his head. "I get the feeling his aunt doesn't like us. Is it just me?"

It was clearly a rhetorical question so neither Sam nor Jules answered. Greg and Ed appeared a few minutes later and the team slowly made their way around the buffet tables and fixed plates for themselves. They stood off to the side, out of the way of the different friends and family members, eating and talking softly. Spike rejoined them after about fifteen minutes having successfully convincing his mother not to pull out anything else at the moment. Once more noting how spent he looked, Sam offered to fix him a plate. Spike gratefully agreed. While Sam was at the buffet table, however, Luisa once more called Spike away. Spike's shoulders noticeably slumped as he had no choice but follow her to the next "emergency."

The next time Spike joined them, he at least got to eat about half of what Sam had fixed for him before he was again called away. This pattern repeated itself every time Spike tried to have a conversation with them. It became obvious to everyone that Luisa seemed to purposefully be trying to prevent him from visiting with his friends. They could tell Spike wanted to protest but didn't want to cause a family rift on such an emotional day.

At one point, Sarge gently suggested it would be better if they just left but Spike immediately shook his head. He begged them to stay because even if he didn't get to speak to them much, their close presence was helping him. It was only after they assured him they would stay as long as he wanted them to, that Spike seemed to relax a little more.

They'd been at Spike's for a couple of hours with only getting to really talk to him for maybe ten or fifteen minutes of that time. Jules finally excused herself from the group to make a trip to the ladies' room. They had all been in Spike's house before so she knew her way around pretty well. As she passed a spare bedroom on her way to the bathroom, she heard Spike's voice, sounding terse but forceful.

"Aunt Luisa, you've got to stop. I mean it. They are my friends and they are here because I want them here. You are being blatantly rude to them and I won't have it. They've done nothing to deserve your behavior today."

"Do not talk to me in such a tone, Michelangelo. Your parents did not raise you this way. You are insulting your precious father's memory by even having them here."

Jules's eyes narrowed and she took a step toward the bedroom. There was no way she was going to let anyone, not even his aunt, talk to Spike in such a way. She had her own protective instinct where her friends were concerned. One that could make Sam's pale in comparison. She could see that Luisa had noticed her approaching; the older woman's eyes narrowing with each step Jules took.

Spike responded in fluent Italian and aside from sounding angry, Jules had no idea what he was telling his aunt. She stopped her approach and changed direction back toward the bathroom. She might not know what he was saying but she knew he had the situation under control. Even though she might want to intervene, she knew doing so would probably only make things worse in the long run. That was the last thing she wanted for Spike.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she could see Spike still standing in the spare bedroom with his back to her. His aunt was nowhere to be seen. Jules stopped and studied him for a second. His arms were raised and his hands were pressed to either side of his temple. Without seeing his face, she could tell he felt defeated. For what had to be about the billionth time that day, her heart went out to him. She stepped just inside the bedroom. "Spike?"

At first he stiffened, his posture remaining rigid until he registered the voice with the speaker. Slowly his hands lowered and even more slowly he turned to face her. His face was twisted in pain and he looked dangerously close to breaking down in tears. He shook his head. "Jules, I can't do this. Not anymore. I've had enough. I can't face anyone else right now. I've got to get out of here. Can you help me?"

Without hesitation, Jules nodded. "Yeah, Spike. Of course, whatever you need. You want to get out of here, we'll get out of here. We'll go wherever you want to go. I just have to let Sam and Raf know."

Again he stiffened. "You know what, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. Don't worry about it."

Jules frowned. "Spike, it's not a problem. Really. I want to help you. I just have to let Sam and Raf know I'm leaving so they can catch a ride with Ed. If I leave without saying anything, it's just going to concern everyone." She reached into her small handbag and pulled out her keys. She offered them to Spike. "Here, take my keys and go on out to the Jeep. I'll be right behind you and we'll go wherever you want to go."

For a moment, Jules felt like she was in the middle of a negotiation. And in some ways, she sort of was. Instead of trying to talk down a dangerous subject who was a threat either to himself or others, she was dealing with a friend who was at his breaking point. A place she knew all too well and didn't want to see Spike go through.

Spike accepted the keys without a word but nodded at her suggestion. He eased past her and made his way down the hall. She watched him leave, noticing that he almost seemed to be checking around every corner as if expecting his aunt or someone else to stop him. Jules shook her head, worried about her friend and then went to find Sam.

She didn't have to look far. He was coming down the hall toward her. He looked concerned. He smiled when he saw her. "Hey, everything okay?"

She shook her head again. "I think Spike's reached his limit. He asked me to get him out of here for a bit. Can you and Raf catch a ride with Ed?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, sure. No problem. Look, take care of Spike; I can't think of anyone who would do a better job of it. But if he needs the rest of us, don't hesitate to call. We'll all be there for him."

Jules smiled softly and nodded. "I will. Sorry to run out on you two…"

"Don't be. Spike needs you and that's where you have to be. Raf and I will be fine. And look, later on tonight, once you're sure Spike is okay and you decide you want to talk or just want to cuddle, call me. If not, I'll see you some time tomorrow."

She wanted to hug him, maybe even kiss him goodbye. She knew she couldn't though. There was too big a chance that someone from the team would see them and that would bring up too many questions that couldn't be answered without getting too many people in trouble. Instead she settled for what would look like a friendly side hug between teammates if someone should see them. Even that wasn't a guarantee that someone wouldn't see it and question the motivation behind the hug but she couldn't leave without some sort of physical contact. She stepped away.

"I will call you when I get a chance. I promise. Now I better get out there; Spike might get tired of waiting and take off in my Jeep. Not that I could say I'd blame him if he did. Do me a favor though; don't make it seem like such a big deal to the others. I know they care and they want to be there for Spike as well but right now I don't think he can take their concern."

"That bad?" Sam probed gently. He trusted Jules's judgment and would do what she thought was best. She nodded. "Okay then. I'll just leave it that Spike needed a breather and you agreed to give him a ride. They'll give him all the time he needs. I'll handle things from this end; you go take care of Spike."

"Thanks." Jules gave his arm a slight squeeze as she started to leave. Sam caught her hand as she passed him.

"Jules…" She turned to face him. He didn't say anything else but his eyes conveyed the emotion his words couldn't express. Her expression softened and she nodded in response to his nonverbal assurance of his feelings.

She managed to make it out of the house without anyone else noticing. As she walked toward where her Jeep was parked she couldn't see Spike sitting in the passenger seat like she expected to. She frowned and looked around trying to find him. It was only once she was actually at the driver's side that she found him. He was sitting in the passenger seat but he'd reclined the seat back so he hadn't been visible from the distance. His arm was draped over his eyes blocking out everything and everyone.

Opening the door, Jules saw that Spike had tossed her keys into the driver's side seat. She grabbed them as she got in the vehicle. She didn't speak as she started the engine and put the vehicle in drive. She didn't ask if he was okay because it was obvious he wasn't. She didn't ask where he wanted to go because she was sure it didn't matter because no matter where she went, it wouldn't be far enough from his pain to satisfy him. So she just drove with no destination in mind.

Jules set the radio on an easy listening station with the volume just barely audible. She wasn't sure if music really did soothe the savage beast but she knew it could sometimes work magic on her worst moods and hoped it would have the same effect on Spike. She kept glancing over at him from time to time but his arm never moved from its position over his eyes. She wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep or was just hiding out the best way he could but she wasn't going to interrupt either way.

Fortunately she had a full tank of gas so she was free to just wander aimlessly through the streets of Toronto. Not wanting to deal with the hustle and bustle of normal traffic, Jules headed toward the outskirts of the city in hopes that the open road could soothe away whatever was getting Spike down. She had to admit that it was helping ease her own tension in the process.

She'd discovered as a teenager the power that driving and getting away from everything had on her. If it hadn't been for the hours she'd slipped away from home and just lost herself behind the wheel of a car in the years between her mother's death and graduation, she didn't know what would have happened to her. To this day her father still didn't know just how many times she'd sneaked out of the house long after curfew and driven until the wee hours of morning before sneaking back inside.

She wasn't aware of how much time or how many miles had passed before Spike finally lowered his arm and raised the seat back up. He glanced over at her. "Thanks."

She wasn't sure if he was thanking her for getting him away or for not pressing him to talk but she nodded anyway. "Not a problem."

He smiled but there was nothing amused or happy in his expression. "I guess you think that was pretty crappy just abandoning my family and friends like that. I owe you an explanation at the very least."

"You don't owe me anything, Spike. I'm not about to judge you for anything. If you want to talk about it, I'll listen, but you don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

Spike knew she was good to her word. She really wouldn't press him to talk if he didn't want to. Part of him wanted to take her up on that. Just forget everything that had happened and regroup his emotions so he was in better control of them. Instead he found himself opening up. "Apparently my dad talked to Aunt Luisa a lot over the last few months. From the moment I picked her up at the airport, she's been on my case about my job. Saying I owe it to my dad's memory to do what he wanted me to do. I've lost count of how many times she's accused me of being a bad son for not doing it before he died. It doesn't matter that as he laid there in that hospital bed knowing he was going to die at any minute he'd started to realize that what I do matters. Doesn't matter that we'd reached some sort of understanding or, I don't know, truce before he died. All she cares about is what he told her personally."

Spike took a deep breath and swiped at his eyes again before continuing. "I've been hearing it for days now and I've been doing a pretty good job of just ignoring her. I know she's grieving as well and she doesn't really mean what she says. At least that's what I keep telling myself. Today though with her being rude to all of you, I couldn't do it anymore. I lost my cool, said some pretty ugly things to her and made her cry. She left out of the bedroom just a minute or two before you came in. I was just standing there, part of me feeling bad because I hurt her and part of me glad I finally said something."

Jules didn't say anything about hearing any of the conversation. It was obvious Spike felt torn about what happened and she didn't want him to feel embarrassed that it had been witnessed. She sighed. "Spike, yeah, your aunt is grieving but so are you."

Spike twisted in his seat so that he was looking out the side window. "Did I do enough? Could I have done more to make things better between me and my dad before he died? I couldn't quit the team. I know that. It's more than just a job. I make a difference and you guys are family. But maybe I could have taken Family Medical Leave and just told them I quit to make him feel better."

"Your father was sick for a long time, Spike. Family Medical Leave is only eight weeks maximum. You had no way of knowing how much time you had left with your dad and if eight weeks would have been long enough. Besides, would you have felt any better knowing you had lied to your parents?"

Spike thought about her words for a few minutes before answering. "No, I guess not. I know where my dad was coming from. He knew he was dying, knew I was going to be the man of the house and would have to take care of Ma. He was afraid that as dangerous as the job could be if something happens to me then there will be no one left to take care of her."

"We've been in the job long enough, seen people with ordinary safe jobs lose their lives. There's no guarantee that if you had quit and gotten a job doing something he considered safer that something wouldn't happen."

Spike nodded. "I know. I couldn't make him realize that though. Instead I just let him think I didn't care about what he thought. There was so much tension between us. So much time we lost because he wanted the impossible and I couldn't give it to him. My dad is gone now and I can't get that time back. He died knowing that the job was more important to me than his feelings. I've got to live with that now."

Seeing a place to pull off and park temporarily, Jules stopped the Jeep but left the engine running. She turned to look at her friend. "Spike. Don't do this. You said yourself that you and your dad reached an understanding…"

"It doesn't make a difference. It doesn't change what happened before. You don't understand. No one can understand what it's like to watch a parent die, hearing him practically beg for something and knowing you can't or won't give it to him."

Twenty year old memories assaulted Jules in that instant. She shuddered trying to push them away. "I wouldn't be too sure of that Spike."

Spike leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. "No offense, Jules, because I really appreciate everything you've done for me, but how could you know what it's like?"

"Because I couldn't give my mom what she told me she wanted when she was dying." Jules admitted quietly. She hadn't talked about that time to anyone in all the years that had passed since her mother's death. Not even her father knew the full story.

His eyes now opened, Spike looked over at Jules. She didn't talk about her family often but the stories she had shared had always seemed pretty happy. "What's that?"

A single tear rolled down Jules's cheek. She didn't want to have this conversation with anyone though she knew it was only a matter of time before she finally confided in Sam the whole story. Why had she said anything at all? She knew why. Spike was hurting and felt like no one understood and she'd wanted him to know he wasn't alone. She took a deep breath and wanted to turn away so he couldn't read anything in her expression. Instead she continued looking straight at him.

"My mom told me she hated my guts just about every day for about five months solid. That was hard enough to hear but it got worse. For a few days before and up to about an hour before my mom died, I lost count of the number of times she told me in graphic detail just what kind of horrible death she wished I would have right there in front of her."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Let me start by saying up front that I have no first hand medical knowledge of what I'm writing about in this chapter. Everything came from researching online so please forgive me if I didn't get something completely right; it fit with what I wanted to do with the chapter. I don't want to give everything away now so I'll offer a further explanation at the end of the chapter. Thanks for your kind reviews and for reading. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Numbing the Pain

Chapter 3

Spike visibly paled at Jules's pronouncement. He shook his head. "Jules?"

Jules wiped the tear away and stared out the front windshield. Twenty years after the fact, she felt traitorous voicing what had happened, even if it was every word of the truth. She took a deep breath. "She didn't mean it. I know that. I knew it then. Still, I have a little bit of an idea of how you feel."

When Spike had received the call from his mother that his father's time was shorter than they'd thought, he'd wanted to break down in tears. He couldn't at the time because lives were at stake and he'd been needed. He'd had to push aside his fears, his pain, all his emotions in order to do everything possible to ensure that that bomb didn't go off and kill everyone trapped in that building at the time. Later, once he'd arrived at the hospital, he'd had to suppress his emotions because he'd wanted to be strong for both his father and mother. There had only been a few times since his father had passed that he'd been able to cry the tears and give into the emotions that wanted to overwhelm him.

Now, sitting in the passenger side of Jules's jeep listening to his friend reveal something still so obviously painful, the tears flowed freely. He'd thought there could be nothing worse than feeling like he'd disappointed his father on his deathbed, but this? Hearing Jules talk about hearing her mother make death threats and then almost in the same breath defend her? He felt almost physically sick.

"Meant it or not, it couldn't have been easy to hear that. Words hurt, sometimes even worse than fists. How old were you?"

Jules still didn't face him, didn't want to see the look of pity or question she was pretty sure would be reflected back at her if she did. "Sixteen. Look Spike, I shouldn't have said anything. You've got enough on your plate without me burdening you with my old wounds. It didn't mean anything."

"I gotta call BS on that one, Jules. Nobody hears someone say they wished them dead - especially not 'in graphic detail' without it meaning something. I don't care if it's someone you love or someone we bust after a bad call. It stays with you and it means something. To hear someone you love say those kind of things, especially at sixteen, had to hurt like hell. I'm way past sixteen and the things between my dad and me are haunting me."

She couldn't lie to Spike, no more than she could outright lie to anyone on the team. She should have known better than to say anything but her own emotions had been floating too near the surface that when Spike accused her of not understanding what he was going through, she'd spoken before she'd thought it out. She twisted in her seat to face him. "Spike, it was a long time ago. Just forget I said anything."

"I can't. I can't pretend I didn't hear what you told me. Maybe I should respect your wishes and just drop it. As a friend, I know I should if you don't want to talk about it. But also as a friend, I can't. You can't tell me something like that and expect me not to be concerned, even if it did happen years ago. Besides, you look like you need to talk about it and maybe I need to hear it just as much."

It was Sam she'd expected to pull the truth from her. Sam was the one she should share her secrets with, was the one she wanted to share then with even if it was painful. She would tell him; not just because she'd promised him she would but because she didn't want to keep secrets from him. Right now though it looked like Spike would be the first to hear the whole story. She didn't want to, but maybe she needed to like Spike had suggested, not just for herself but for Spike as well. She sighed deeply. "Fine. I'll tell you about it but not here."

She checked the mirrors and then pulled back into traffic, this time with a clear destination in mind. If she was going to bare her soul to Spike, she was going to need a little liquid encouragement to get through it. Spike didn't press her for details as she was driving. He knew it wouldn't do her or him any good for her to get upset while behind the wheel of the car. He wasn't sure where she was heading but he could tell from the set of her jaw and the determination in her eyes that she did. It was only once they reached more familiar surroundings that he realized they were heading to her house.

Jules pulled into her driveway and cut off the engine. For a moment, she continued to sit there. She knew that once she went inside with Spike, she would be ripping open wounds that hadn't completely healed no matter how much time had passed or how many times she'd tried to tell herself they had.

"Jules?" Spike offered when it became clear she wasn't making a move to go inside.

"One thing you've got to know before anything else is said is that I love my mom. She was a great person and she loved me completely. The way she lived her life and the way her life ended are so different that it isn't fair. No matter what happened I can't and won't have anyone thinking badly of her."

Spike couldn't understand how that was possible given the bombshell his friend had dropped earlier but he would give her the benefit of the doubt until he knew more. He nodded and Jules opened the car door and led the way up the walkway to the front door. Once inside, Jules encouraged him to make himself comfortable as she disappeared into the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with two small juice glasses and a full bottle of straight whiskey. Setting the glasses on the table, she opened the bottle and pour a generous amount of the amber liquid into each of the glasses. Then she set the bottle on the coffee table in front of the glasses and sat down on the couch. Nudging one of the glasses toward Spike, who had chosen the chair instead of the couch, Jules picked up the other and emptied it in one long swallow.

Spike raised an eyebrow. He'd seen Jules drink before, had even seen her get wasted along with the rest of them from time to time; however, seeing her down a drink that fast and without blinking an eye was a first for him. He couldn't deny that the idea of a drink, of being able to wash down his pain with a good stiff drink, sounded pretty near perfect to him right now, but his own swallow was more conservative.

Jules refilled her glass but held it rather than drinking it. She stared at a spot on the ground. "I don't even know where to begin."

"Seems to me you already began with the hardest part. Damn, Jules, as much tension as there was between my dad and me, it's nothing compared to what you went through. I can't even imagine…"

"No, I guess you can't." Jules interrupted quietly. "I couldn't either. You know I have four older brothers. Mom loved the boys but she really wanted a little girl. You would have thought once she had me, she would have insisted on me being some sort of frilly, always in dresses and acting like a lady kind of daughter, but she didn't. From the stories told growing up, that was more Dad. Mom encouraged me to be and do what I wanted to be and do. One of my earliest memories was of me running into the house crying because the boys had told me I couldn't do something with them because I was a girl and girls couldn't do what boys could do. I think I was maybe four at the time. Mom picked me up and set me on the kitchen counter, wiped my eyes and face, looked me straight in the eyes and told me, 'So, are you going to sit in here and cry and feel sorry for yourself and believe them or are you going to get back out there and prove them wrong?' I think that was the last time the boys ever told me I couldn't do something."

She finished off her second glass as Spike chuckled. He had a feeling that while it probably wasn't the last time anybody had tried to tell her that she couldn't do something because she was a girl, it might have been the last time she'd ever listened to it even for a moment. Jules refilled both their glasses again.

"Mom was always encouraging me to follow my heart. She didn't protest when I said I didn't want to take ballet; instead she was the first one in the stands to cheer me on for whatever sport I wanted to try. Did you know I was the youngest person to make the school's varsity softball team?"

Spike shook his head in response to her question but he didn't think she even noticed. She never talked about her childhood and he had a feeling he was about to find out why. Jules continued.

"We made the playoffs. Big game against the best team maybe in the whole of Canada, but at the very least in Alberta. I was the starting pitcher. The game started and Mom wasn't in the stands. I remember being worried but I couldn't concentrate on the fact that she wasn't there because the team was counting on me. The game ended and she still hadn't showed up. I figured something had come up at home but when I got there, she wasn't there either. Dad was there and he was just as surprised that she hadn't shown up. He said Mom had left in plenty of time to get to the game. It was starting to get dark and she hadn't called or shown up. We were starting to get worried when she finally called. She said she was lost and didn't know where she was or how to get home. Dad had her put someone on the phone that was able to give him their location and he went to pick her up."

Spike frowned. "What had happened?"

Jules shook her head. "She didn't know. Turned out she was more than fifty miles from the house and she had no idea how she'd managed to get there. Dad was freaked out by it but he tried not to let me see how concerned he was. I could tell though; I mean who wouldn't be concerned? She could drive from the house to the mall to the field and back again almost blindfolded. How do you get that lost when you know your way that well? Mom laughed it off, said she must have had a blonde moment or something. She was more concerned about missing my game than about being lost. Then the next day I got home and Mom wasn't there. I was more than a little worried but she came home about a couple of hours later. She just started screaming at me that I'd wasted her time. Turns out she'd gone to the field for the playoff game that we'd played the day before. It was like she'd completely forgotten about missing it and like I'd purposely told her the wrong date. It was the first time she ever told me she hated me. I was devastated but I didn't want to show it. Instead I waited until I went to bed, and I think I cried almost all night long."

Spike whistled. "Did she go to the doctor?"

Jules nodded. She poured another generous portion of whiskey into her glass. Spike was surprised she'd managed to finish the one she had while she was talking. It seemed strange to see this side of his coworker even if he could somewhat understand it. "Yeah, Dad insisted. The doctors ran scans and ruled out the obvious. No sign of brain tumors or anything like that. One of the doctors suggested that it might be a chemical imbalance or something more psychological rather than neurological. Mom didn't want to go but Dad insisted that she at least give a psychiatrist a try."

Suddenly Jules's distaste for the yearly psych evals made complete sense to Spike. As she finished off yet another glass and immediately reached for the bottle, he wondered if he should step in and cut her off. He didn't for two reasons. One, if he cut her off, he'd pretty much have to cut himself off and he couldn't deny that the fiery liquid that scalded his own throat was a welcome distraction to the numbing pain he'd been feeling since his father died. The second reason was that he felt he almost owed her a moment of weakness and overindulgence as a repayment for her being there for him and allowing him the same the night of Lew's funeral. At least she was in the privacy of her own home and he could always cut her off later if he felt it was necessary. He finished his own drink and didn't protest when she immediately refilled it. He looked at her. "Did she go?"

Jules nodded. "Yeah, fat lot of good it did. He said it sounded like a form of depression, so he put her on a cocktail of medications. Medications that she didn't want to take but Dad insisted that she should try. Medications that turned her from being the mom I'd always known into this shell of a person I didn't recognize. Almost overnight she became this stranger I didn't recognize anymore and it didn't help the weird blackouts she was having either. The doctor said it would get better; once she got used to the medicine, the side effects would lessen and so would the blackouts."

She set her drink glass down on the coffee table. Spike couldn't help but notice that her hand was shaking. He wasn't sure how much of it was an effect of her telling the story that was obviously still so painful for her or the result of the alcohol she'd already consumed. She leaned her head back against the couch, rubbing her face almost furiously as if trying to avoid crying.

"Dad never really saw the worst of it because he was usually up and out of the house at sun up. There was always work that needed to be done around the property. I'm the one who had to make sure she took the medication, and, believe me, she resented the hell out of me for it. She would accuse me of poisoning her and sometimes she would scream obscenities at me. I tried to ignore it; told myself that she didn't mean it and that it was whatever was wrong with her that was making her say such awful things. I mean it was only words and it's not like words can really hurt, right?"

Spike shook his head and took a generous swallow of his drink. How many times had his father's words cut him to the quick? "Like I said earlier, sometimes words hurt worse than fists. Whoever made up that saying about sticks and stones was an idiot. Words have a much more devastating effect at times. Did she ever actually hurt you?"

Jules didn't answer. Instead, she busied herself pouring more alcohol into her glass and refilling Spike's glass. Again Spike couldn't help but notice her hands were shaking. If anything, the shaking seemed to be worse now than it had been before he'd asked his question. He wished he could take it back; he blamed the alcohol he'd already consumed for not recognizing it was the wrong question to ask. Her silence said more than words ever could. He set his glass down, not interested in taking another swallow. He looked at Jules who was looking everywhere but at him. She'd already finished off the drink she'd just poured herself and was refilling it. He sighed. Regret over the question or not, he had to see it through. "Jules?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Just once, maybe a month after she started the medication the shrink had prescribed. Like he'd said, the zombie effects the pills had caused had gone away but not the black outs. She would still have these moments when she just sort of zoned out and didn't seem to know anything or anyone. This particular morning, she was cooking breakfast and, I don't know, she just had one of those zone outs or something. I walked in and saw flames shooting up from whatever was in the skillet. Mom was just standing there watching it like it was nothing. I rushed in to try to put it out before the curtains or something else caught fire or something. Suddenly Mom grabbed my hair and pulled me back. I thought at first she was worried I'd get hurt but she started screaming at me that I was ruining the show. She'd shoved me to the floor and was just telling me how stupid I was and useless, and I every time I tried to get up to put out the fire, she kept pushing me away. I thought the whole house was going to burn down with us still in it. Luckily for some reason Dad came in and saw the fire. He put it out and asked what had happened. Mom accused me of starting the fire. I couldn't believe it, I just started bawling right there for everyone to see. Then Mom started crying saying she didn't know what had happened. Dad realized something was wrong and insisted on taking her to a different doctor, a neurologist this time."

Spike watched her carefully, wondering if, now that she'd started telling her story, she even remembered he was there. "Did it help? Was the neurologist able to tell you what was wrong?"

Jules shrugged. "Not definitively. The neurologist did all the same scans again that they'd done the first time and once again ruled out brain tumors or cancer or things like that. He'd been doing research on the possible transmission of mad cow disease to humans and suggested that the symptoms suggested that it could be variant Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. The only way to know for sure was either by a brain biopsy or later by an autopsy. He said the biopsy was dangerous and not recommended since a diagnosis wouldn't mean a treatment but without anything else to go on, it was the best working diagnosis he could determine. He suggested that we take her home and make the most of what time we might have left."

Spike's stomach turned. He couldn't help but remember the call they'd had not long after Jules had returned to duty after being shot. A woman with spontaneous CJD and her fiancé were trying to have one last night together before committing suicide because they couldn't live with the idea of watching her health deteriorate with the disease. It had been a hard call for all of them, bringing to question things they shouldn't have had to question. He remembered now that once they'd gone back to the station for the debriefing, Jules had seemed a little more withdrawn than usual. He hadn't thought much about it then but now it made perfect sense; while the call had bothered them all, it had touched Jules on a much more personal level. "Variant? How did the doctor think she got it?"

Jules sniffled. "It's possible she ate some beef contaminated with Mad Cow Disease or it might have been from contaminated blood. Mom had had surgery several months before and had to have a blood transfusion. The doctor said we might not ever know exactly how she got it."

Spike frowned, feeling a slight buzz in his head. "I didn't think there were any documented cases of blood transfusions causing CJD."

"Mom's case wasn't documented. The neurologist couldn't prove it was CJD or that it was caused by the blood transfusion so the diagnosis was never official; this was just a few years after the first documented case of Mad Cow disease happened in Alberta, and I think the doctor was worried about causing a panic if word got out that a person was sick with the human form of the disease." Jules finished another drink and set her glass down. She covered her eyes with the crook of her arm and leaned her head against the back of the couch. "Dad didn't want to believe it. He'd taken her to the doctor not only to find out what was wrong with her but how to make her better. The neurologist basically gave us no hope. Dad was a problem solver; if something was wrong, you fixed it. It was that simple. He couldn't handle not being able to do anything to fix Mom. So he sort of checked out. He spent as much time away from the house as he could so taking care of Mom fell to me, even more so than it had before. He didn't see the really bad side of Mom's illness and neither did my brothers. I saw it all though. Mom had some really great lucid moments in the months that followed. However, she had more hellacious days than she did good ones. Fortunately for her, she didn't remember any of the bad moments when she was having a good day; it just seemed wrong to ruin those times by mentioning things she'd said."

Her words were starting to slur as she talked. Spike glanced at the bottle she'd been pouring from since they'd arrived and he was surprised to see that it was almost empty. He hadn't realized they'd - mostly she- had drunk as much as they had. No doubt she would have a hell of a hangover later, but he had a feeling the headache wouldn't even come close to matching the heartache she was currently reliving. He thought about the toil caring for his terminally ill father had taken on both him and his mother and they were adults. He couldn't imagine what it had been like for Jules at sixteen to have to shoulder that burden mostly alone with a mother that was not only dying but experiencing mental instability as well. Suddenly he felt ashamed for any complaining he'd done about his father's illness and subsequent death; as bad as it was, it didn't hold a candle to what she'd been through.

Jules removed her arm and sat up, looking at him. "Don't Spike. Don't sit there and question your right to grieve the death of your father." If Jules noticed the surprise on Spike's face that she had known what he was thinking, she didn't show it. She poured herself another drink and topped off his own as she continued. "Losing a parent hurts like hell and it doesn't matter how it happened. I didn't tell you all this to make you doubt your own reactions. You lost your father and things were difficult between you before you lost him. It's going to hurt, probably for awhile; don't let anyone tell you it shouldn't."

Even though he'd thought he was through drinking, Spike found himself picking up his freshened drink and taking a sip. "I thought about not going to the funeral today. It seemed almost wrong. We might have made a start at making a repair to our relationship but we were still so divided on things. After listening to Aunt Louisa telling me how disappointed Dad was in me, I really thought I didn't deserve to be there. I went mostly because I knew Ma needed me." He braced himself for recrimination he expected to get. How could anyone even think about not attending a parent's funeral? He had to be the worst son ever.

The recrimination he was expecting didn't come, however. Jules finished off the last of the bottle. "I only went to my mom's funeral because my grandmother insisted. I'd already told my dad that I didn't think I could go; he had said he understood. He didn't know about Mom's worst moments but he knew taking care of her had taken a toil on me. I think with her death he felt bad that he hadn't done more and he realized he'd put a lot on me. Then my grandmother came to town and she about blew a gasket when she heard I wasn't going. Told me it was an insult to my mother's memory and that I was a bad daughter if I didn't go. So I went. I sat there between my dad and my oldest brother and listened as the priest talked about what a loving mother and wife Mom had been. While I believed every word he was saying, it was almost impossible for me to listen to. My great and wonderful mom hadn't been so great and wonderful toward me for so long except for a few incredible moments. About ten minutes into the service I got up and ran out of the church, expecting my grandmother or my father or maybe one of my brothers to come running after me. They didn't and I just sat in the truck until the service was over. No one said anything about me leaving but I could see the disapproval on my grandmother's face for the next four days she was there."

She glanced at the now empty bottle. How had the alcohol disappeared so quickly? Some part of her brain that wasn't quite so whiskey-soaked knew she didn't need any more. She'd already consumed more than she usually did and had done so much quicker than was probably safe. Her head was spinning as it was and twisting around to lay down on the couch and passing out completely sounded really good. The less rational part of her mind was trying to remember if there was any more alcohol in the house. Dimly she remembered that Sam had picked up a six pack of beer the night before to go with the pizza they'd eaten. She was pretty sure there were at least three left in the fridge.

She stood up to go get them. Need them or not, getting totally smashed so she didn't have to think about the past sounded too tempting to pass up. Immediately, the room started to spin, her stomach lurched, and she had to sit down again. She hadn't eaten much while at Spike's earlier. The almost empty stomach had allowed the alcohol to go straight to her head. She lowered her head to her knees and took several deep breaths.

Spike winced. He knew that reaction all to well and he also knew it was only going to get worse before it got better. Without leaving his seat, he reached over and touched her back.

"Jules, are you okay?"

She shook her head, not looking up. Okay? How could she be okay? How could she have bared her soul like she had to her friend? Spike was grieving the loss of his father; the last thing he needed was to listen to her sob story. She was usually so careful not to lose complete control like that. Yeah, she could hold her own with the guys on any drink night but to get that wasted in the middle of the afternoon the day her friend buried his father. What had she been thinking?

Tears filled her eyes. She was supposed to be comforting a friend in need, not the other way around. She started to apologize to him but started to sob instead. It had to be the alcohol. Yeah, she could be emotional at times and had been known to shed a few tears after a difficult call but never like this.

Spike left his seat in the chair and knelt beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to pull her close. It scared him to see her so upset, but beyond that it also just hurt him to know she'd experienced something so tragic. Jules pulled away from his embrace however. She didn't want him or anyone - or at least almost anyone- seeing her like this.

"I'm sorry, Spike. I shouldn't have made it about me and what I went through. That's not what you need right now."

"Jules, it's okay. Maybe what I needed was to be reminded that I'm not the only one who's ever lost a parent or had a rocky time with it. These last couple of days I've been focusing on how bad things had gotten between my dad and me. Instead of dwelling on it, I should have been a little more grateful that we did have the time we did right before he died. We might not have settled everything but I know we made a start. I need to remember that. You said a few minutes ago that you did have some incredible moments with your mom while she was lucid." He didn't know why he asked about it. He guessed he was hoping to remind her of nicer times to help ease the pain the bad memories had caused.

Jules nodded. She sat up but scooted to the other side of the couch where she hugged one of the throw pillows to her chest. "Yeah, she got progressively worse after we met with the neurologist. She finally got to where she couldn't even get out of bed. Then a week before she died, I took her breakfast into the bedroom. I usually had to feed her because she couldn't even handle the spoon. This particular morning, she was sitting up waiting for me. I looked in her eyes and knew she was once more my mom, the mom she'd been before she'd gotten sick, the mom I hadn't seen for months. We spent several hours just talking until she was too tired to talk anymore. I continued to sit on the bed next to her even after she fell asleep. It had felt like such a perfect morning. I knew she was still sick and that nothing was going to change that but for at least a morning I had had my mom back. It was the last lucid moment she had before she died."

Spike nodded. He was glad she'd had that at least. "I'm sorry, Jules. Sorry you had to live through that, sorry your mom had to go through it, sorry what I'm going through brought back painful memories, sorry that nothing I say or do can make it better."

Jules sniffled again. "I know. You don't have to be sorry though. It's not your fault. Just like it wasn't Mom's fault she got sick. Sometimes life just sucks, you know. My mom, your dad, Lew, they died before they should have. I know it happens and nobody's at fault but sometimes I don't understand the system of why it happens. Why do some people get sick and die and others don't? Why do some brave officers die in the line of duty and others don't?"

Spike sighed. "I've wondered that myself. I'm the bomb expert; I've defused thousands of bombs in my career and I'm still here. Lew takes one and he's gone. The other day when Sam, Raf, and I were caught in that explosion and we knew Sam was hurt, I thought, 'not again, I can't lose another friend.'" Spike's voice broke. With everything that had happened during the call and after, he hadn't had time to dwell on just how much Sam being injured had scared him and brought back memories of Lew. Now that he'd said it though, he couldn't get the fear he'd felt in those moments out of his mind. He was glad Sam had been okay but at the same time he hadn't been able to keep away the thought of why couldn't Lew have been okay as well.

"The day that Lew died, that night as I lay in bed trying unsuccessfully to sleep, I wondered why Lew and not me. That day I was shot, there's no reason I should have survived but I did. If I could beat the odds, why hadn't he? I'm no better then Lew; if anything he deserved to live so much more than I did."

Spike shook his head, his tears flowing more. "Stop it. Don't talk like you should have died. It was bad enough that we lost Lew; I'm grateful we didn't lose you before that or Sam after, glad we didn't lose Ed when he was shot. Maybe I'm damn selfish but I can't take any more loss right now. Bad enough that Wordy had to transfer."

Jules sat up again, groaning as her head swirled with the effort. She put her hand on Spike's shoulder. "Spike, I don't wish I'd died; I just don't understand why I didn't. That's all. I'm sorry; I'm supposed to be helping you feel better not worse."

Spike smiled and covered her hand with his own. "Believe it or not, you are. I think I should probably go home though. I had my break and my breakdown; I think I'm ready to be there for my ma now. She had most of the burden of taking care of my pop like you did your mom. In my own grief I haven't really given much thought to what this has all been like for her. Thanks for being there for me today and sharing your story with me. I know it wasn't easy for you to do it but I think I needed to hear it."

Jules groaned and it had nothing to do with the pounding beginning in her head. "Damn, Spike, I can't drive you home. I'd give you the keys to my jeep but I don't think you have any business driving either. I think I have some cash in my purse; why not get some out and call a cab. It's the least I could do since I've sort of stranded you. I think I should probably see if I have about a gallon of water cold in the fridge or else the headache I'm going to have in a little while is going to be a big bitch."

Spike watched to make sure she was a little steadier on her feet this time. Once she was in the kitchen, he picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. The person on the other side answered after a couple of rings. "Hey, it's Spike. I need a favor."

- FP - FP - FP -

Sam inserted his key into the front door lock. Not for the first time, he said a little thank you that he was once more in a position to have it. Swinging the door open quietly, he stepped into the house that was starting to feel like a home to him, maybe even more of a home than his own apartment ever had. His eyes swept the room and landed almost immediately on the figure sprawled on the couch.

Jules was asleep or passed out, he couldn't be sure which. An empty water bottle sat next to an empty bottle of whiskey. Her face was red and splotchy, suggesting she'd been crying before. He closed and locked the door and then joined her at the couch. Sleep was what she needed but he knew she would sleep better in her bed than on the couch.

He gently lifted her into his arms, wondering not for the first time how someone so light could carry so much weight when it came to work. She didn't open her eyes but she did curl more comfortably into his chest. It seemed like her breathing evened out a little more.

"What are you doing here?"

Sam leaned his head down and placed a light kiss on the tip of her nose. It didn't surprise him that she knew it was him without opening her eyes. He was also glad to see she'd been asleep and not completely passed out. However, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. "I figured if Spike's condition was any indication of yours, I should probably check on you."

"Spike?"

He started up the stairs. "He called and asked for a ride, which I was happy to give him. He didn't explain what had happened and I didn't ask him. Figured it was none of my business. I dropped him off at his house after making sure he was really okay and then figured the coast was clear to come back here. If you'd rather be alone though, I'll leave after I get you settled in bed."

She shook her head, the fingers of one hand wrapping into his shirt as if to hold him closer. "Don't go. There's no place else I'd rather you be."

Sam grinned. "Then here is where I'll be. Do I want to know how much you had to drink?"

Again Jules shook her head. "Don't want to talk about it."

"You don't have to." Sam promised. He used his foot to push open the bedroom door. He set her down carefully on the bed and started to undress her. He knew she'd be more comfortable not only in her own bed but in more comfortable clothes as well. He started with her shoes and then eased the dress over her head. She didn't help him and he wasn't sure if she had any control over her own limbs. Once she was undressed, he left her long enough to retrieve one of her oversized night shirts from the dresser.

He wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd had more than his fair share of practicing undressing women, although Jules was the last woman he ever wanted to undress. Dressing them afterward, however, wasn't something he was as skilled at. He hoped he didn't jar her too much as he slipped the nightshirt over her head. If it bothered her, she didn't let on.

Once he had her dressed more comfortably, Sam pulled the covers back on the bed and held her beneath them. Then he kicked off his own shoes and laid down beside her. Jules snuggled up close to him. Sam skimmed his fingers up and down her arm. From the moment he'd first laid eyes on her, he'd thought that Jules Callaghan seemed larger than life. As he'd gotten to know her, as he'd fallen head over heals hopelessly in love with her, that hadn't changed. She might be petite and little in size but her personality and her determination more than made up for it. The only time he'd ever thought she looked small and helpless had been in the hospital after she'd been shot, that was until now.

He'd known when they'd left for the funeral that Jules was feeling vulnerable. He'd known that sitting through the funeral or watching Spike suffering hadn't made anything easier for her. He didn't know what had happened after she'd left with Spike but looking at her now, he guessed that all her feelings had come to a head. It killed him to see her look vulnerable but if it helped exorcise the demons that had been plaguing her, then he guessed it was worth it.

He wasn't someone who could normally sit or in this case lay around and do nothing but this felt right. He felt like he was right where he needed to be. He shifted on the bed slightly so he was more comfortable. Then he heard her sniffle. "Jules?"

"I'm sorry."

He moved again so that he was facing her eye to eye. Even though her eyes were still closed, the tears slipping down her cheeks showed she was crying. "Sweetheart, you don't have anything to be sorry for."

She sniffled again and nodded, her eyes opening about halfway. "I told Spike what was bothering me before I told you. I didn't mean to. It just sort of started coming out and then I couldn't stop. You should be the one I share my secrets and my hurts with, not Spike. And even though I want to share it with you now I don't think I can do it again. Yet here you are being so sweet and taking care of me."

Her words were slurring together and he had to really concentrate on what she was saying in order to understand her. He'd seen her drunk before and knew her emotions went on overload when it happened. A happy drunk Jules was a sight to see and probably should be videotaped for prosperity if everyone wasn't scared of the hell she'd give later if she found out about it. An upset drunk Jules however was heartbreaking. He'd give anything to never have to see it again.

He kissed her, cupping her face in his hands so she had no choice but to look at him. "Jules, I want to know all your secrets, all your joys, and all your pain but I don't have to know any of it in order to love you. It's okay that you told Spike before you told me because I know you needed to talk to about it and I'm sure Spike was the one who needed to hear it. It's okay. Someday, when you are ready, you'll tell me. Until that happens, just know that I'm here for you however you need me to be."

Jules swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You aren't upset?"

Sam kissed her again. "I'm upset that you are upset but not that you talked to Spike before you talked to me. Go back to sleep; you're going to have the headache from hell later so rest while you can. I'll be right here."

"Are you sure?"

As close as he was to her, every word she said gave him a renewed sense of how much alcohol she'd consumed earlier. "I'm sure. Now sleep and no more talking; I'm getting buzzed just off your breath."

"'kay." She snuggled back against his chest and he watched the even rise and fall of her chest. Just when he thought she was fully asleep, she stirred again. "I didn't tell her I loved her."

There was a quiver in her voice that cut him to the quick. He held her tighter. "Didn't tell who?"

"Mom. The day she died. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and we didn't know if she would wake up if she did lose consciousness but I didn't tell her I loved her before she did."

Jules buried her face against Sam's broad chest. He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head. "I'm sure she knew. We don't always get to say everything we want to; it doesn't mean the other person isn't aware of it. And moms have that superpower of always knowing everything. So I'm sure she knew. Don't worry about it."

Jules shook her head. "No, you don't understand. There were so many times in the last couple of weeks of her life that we thought it was the end. Each time I would whisper to her that I loved her. I don't know, maybe I thought the words would act as some sort of magic to make sure she stayed alive. It always worked and she'd stay with us but that last time I didn't say it. I know it's silly and it would have happened eventually whether I said it or not but I can't help but feel like if I'd said the words she would have held on just a little longer."

He knew what she was talking about. Those moments after she'd been shot would forever haunt him. Sitting in the SIU interview when he would have rather been at the hospital with her had been hell. Every moment he'd spent with her for the twenty four hours before the shooting kept running though his head. Had he said everything he'd needed to say, could he have done anything differently?

Before he could think of anything to say that would comfort her, he realized she'd gotten quiet. Glancing down, he realized she was once again sound asleep. He kissed her again and settled back on the bed, content to just hold her. It was clear that all her demons hadn't been shed but he was determined to be there for her until they were, whether she could tell him what they were or not. She was worth being there for.

- FP -

Author's Notes 2: So I started out doing research, trying to find an illness that would produce the kind of symptoms I was looking for. Once I came across the CDJ, I knew I had found what was I was looking for. Then I realized it was what the girl was diagnosed with in "Last Dance" so I re-watched the episode. Jules's reactions in the episode seemed to fit with what I was imagining Jules to go through here so I decided to keep with my idea. I hope it didn't disappoint. Again, I have no first hand experience with the disease so any mistakes weren't intentional. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
